


The Picnic

by ProxyOne



Series: The Public Sex Chronicles [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BUT FEEEEELINGS, Fucking, M/M, PWP, Public Sex, but with feelings, dirty dirty fucking, fbi picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8500981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProxyOne/pseuds/ProxyOne
Summary: The FBI has a picnic.  Will and Hannibal are both there.
Honestly, there's minimal plot, but there are feelings and fun times to be had.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I switched to past tense for this, where the other installments have been present. I'd like to say it was for artistic reasons, but honestly, I just forgot and past tense is where I feel most comfortable, so hey

“I can't believe you actually turned up to this.”

Will grunted at Beverly, holding a cold beer to his lips. Of course he came; Hannibal had been invited, and since Hannibal couldn't resist the opportunity to show off in front of everyone, Will had decided to turn up to the midsummer FBI barbecue to keep an eye on him.

He couldn't exactly deny to himself that keeping an eye on him was a rather pleasant experience, his eyes greedily drinking in the way Hannibal practically sashayed from one end of the grill to the other, his composure entirely unruffled despite the heat of the sun beating down on them all. He had long since discovered that watching Hannibal in an apron with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows – because Hannibal just could not bring himself to be caught dead anywhere without at the very least a button down shirt and tie on, not even somewhere as wholly inappropriate as this – was one of his weaknesses.

He cleared his throat and leaned back against the tree he was standing under, avoiding the sun (and thereby the worst of the sweat he was prone to), and just as studiously avoided looking in Hannibal's direction. Beverly was observant enough, without giving her more to work with.

“You hungry?” she asked, right on cue.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, taking another drink from his bottle. “Haven't really eaten today. Didn't notice until the smell of the food came over.”

“You looked like you were about ready to go over and devour the lot,” Bev answered, a smirk colouring her words. Will rubbed a hand over his face, thankful that she'd interpreted his look as genuine hunger for food, and not as anything to do with all the things he was planning on doing to Doctor Lecter once he had him alone.

“You picked the right one of these to turn up to,” she continued, looking back over at the barbecue. Hannibal was busily stacking steaks and sausages up into what appeared from back here to be some sort of art deco design, his shirt stretching over his broad back as he moved. Will licked his lips. “Getting the privilege of Hannibal cooking for us is not something we've had at one of these before.”

“Yep, we're certainly lucky to get to try out his food again,” Will agreed, shoving the hand not holding his beer bottle into his pocket. Maintaining an appropriately disinterested air while his entire body was screaming at him to go and tear Hannibal's shirt from his perfectly formed torso was becoming increasingly difficult. Still, the effort he was putting in was clearly paying off, if the way Beverly was _entirely_ failing to notice was anything to go by.

Hannibal chose that moment to look over at them, something he had been rather conspicuously (to Will, at least) avoiding doing. In fact, beyond a warm yet brief “hello, Will,” he had barely acknowledged Will at all. This was just a physical thing, something they had decided to do to let off some steam once in a while (though that once in a while had been steadily increasing in frequency), but it still stung a little. It was the price of a secret relationship though, and Will had to pay it.

He nodded at Hannibal in response to the man's own inclined head while beside him Beverly straightened in anticipation. Hannibal's voice floated towards them, the slightly husky tones of the otherwise innocuous “lunch is ready” doing things to Will's stomach.

Not just his stomach, really. An hour of watching Hannibal had taken its toll, it would seem, and now he had to will his traitorous body back into submission. He couldn't very well walk down into the crowd with the half erection he currently had.

“You coming?” Beverly asked, looking back when she realised Will wasn't following. He mentally cursed her choice of words as he plastered on a wan smile.

“Yeah, I'll just wait for the crowd to die down, finish my beer.”

He held up the quarter bottle he still had left, relieved when Beverly didn't protest, her own appetite obviously overriding any mild concern for him she might have. He looked away, choosing instead to focus on the trees, the birds, the clouds, _anything_ that might take his mind off Hannibal and his infuriatingly attractive physique. He'd almost managed to get his body back into a more socially acceptable state when he was interrupted from his reverie by a very specific barbecue guest arriving at his side, laden with plates of food.

“You looked hungry,” a familiar voice purred. “And perhaps a little lonely.”

To Will's great surprise, there was genuine warmth and feeling in Hannibal's expression; not the usual concern he showed for friends, something deeper. Something more _personal._ He took the offered plates, noticing as he did so that Hannibal also had a blanket draped over his arm. As he helped him lay it out, still remaining carefully away from the rest of the gathered group of FBI agents, a warm, nervous fluttering threatened to turn Will's insides into mush. To say it was disconcerting would be an understatement. The two men settled themselves on the soft wool, a carefully platonic distance kept between them. Will felt more nervous than he could recall ever feeling around Hannibal before, and that feeling was only exacerbated when he gave Will a small smile over his plate.

“How are you enjoying your food?” Hannibal asked, all fussy politeness as always, but somehow still retaining that same undercurrent of affection he'd had when he'd first arrived with the blanket. It wasn't something Will had ever heard from him before. He wasn't even completely convinced Hannibal knew he was doing it.

The comment, though, was a gentle nudge to eat, and Will finally managed to shake enough of his sudden unexplained feelings away long enough to take a bite. It was, as ever, delicious.

“How do you do this?” he asked as he swallowed. “It's a barbecue. All barbecues taste the same, I know they do. I've never had one that tastes any different. One might be a bit more charcoal-y than another, but they still all have the same base flavour. This doesn't.”

He peered suspiciously down at the perfectly cooked steak resting on the plate, then glanced back up at Hannibal just as a worried expression left his face.

“I meant that in a good way,” Will mumbled, taking another bite. He scooped up a forkful of bacon-filled potato salad and gave that a try, surprised again at how good it tasted. He didn't know why he was surprised. He'd eaten often enough at Hannibal's – and had Hannibal bring him home cooked food almost as often – to know that there was nothing he couldn't do when it came to cooking.

“Thank you,” he said after few more moments of silent eating. “This is good.”

“I'm pleased, then,” Hannibal said, looking straight ahead at the people all clustered together around the tables rather than at Will. “I made it all with you in mind.”

Will froze, thanking any deity who might be listening that he managed not to choke on his food. He stared at Hannibal, who was focused entirely on his meal. _Suspiciously_ focused.

“You know,” he said after a few moments had passed, “it was very distracting, sitting back here watching you work with your sleeves rolled up like that.”

Will could feel his face growing pink even as he spoke. Being open with his feelings, whether emotional or physical, was not something that came easily to him. Next to him Hannibal smiled, a more predatory smirk than the almost shy smile he'd given Will when they sat. For some reason that made Will feel more comfortable, and he found himself relaxing, leaning back against the tree.

“You did it on purpose, didn't you?” he asked when Hannibal didn't answer. “You know what effect that has on me.”

“It may have crossed my mind when deciding how to dress,” Hannibal admitted, his voice dropping low.

“You cook for me, perform for me … what did I do to deserve it?” Will said, his own voice dropping in response. There was no way anyone else could hear them, but it never failed to excite him when he thought of the possibility. He could feel himself growing hard again already, as his mind ran through the possibilities. He wondered how feasible it would be to move under the blanket and give each other hand jobs, right there in full view of everyone. He wondered if the tree they were leaning against was broad enough to hide them if Hannibal were to take him behind it and fuck him.

He wondered a lot of things.

“I do believe I owe you retribution after your little performance at my last dinner party,” Hannibal said, interrupting his thoughts. His eyes were locked onto Will's, freezing him in place. “I underestimated how distracting I would find you, as you stood here under the trees, your sweat glistening in the sun. Your hair does look remarkable, dampened down like that. I couldn't stop imagining taking it in my hands as you dropped to your knees before me, taking your fill.”

Will did choke then, absurdly pleased when Hannibal's large hand rubbed his back as his coughing settled. He looked over at the people down below them through watery eyes. Beverly was looking up at them with minor concern on her face, and she began to walk up, but a hurried “I'm fine!” had her smiling and returning to her conversation with Brian and Jimmy.

“A drink, perhaps?”

Hannibal produced a wine glass from god only knew where, along with a small bottle of wine that Will could at least see came from his pocket. He filled the glass and offered it to Will, who took it gratefully, downing the lot in one go. He chose to ignore the raised eyebrow from Hannibal that was aimed in his direction.

“I sometimes regret the secrecy of this relationship,” Hannibal said, echoing Will's own thoughts. “There are times I would like nothing better than to kiss you in front of all of these people. However, the secrecy does have it's own benefits, benefits I find myself enjoying greatly.”

“Is that so, Doctor Lecter?”

“Indeed it is, Mr Graham. While I was cooking, I had the opportunity to observe the angles from there to here. If we were to move but a few feet further up the hill, we would be hidden from sight, thanks to this conveniently placed stand of trees. We might do anything, and have no one down there any the wiser. We, however, would still be able to see _them._ Privacy, with the illusion of exposure.”

Will swallowed, his throat feeling constricted. Almost without his conscious approval, his body began moving, clambering to its feet, Will himself merely along for the ride.

“What are we waiting for, then?” he asked thickly, holding a hand out for Hannibal to grab. The speed with which Hannibal's eyes darkened wasn't lost on Will, and he wiggled his fingers in impatience. Hannibal finally relented and reached for Will's hand. A jolt ran through him at the contact, at just the thought that no matter how brief it was, he was holding Hannibal Lecter's hand in front of _everyone_. All too soon, though, Hannibal was standing, and they broke the small physical connection they had allowed themselves.

For now, at least.

They turned and walked, Will letting Hannibal lead the way up the incline, behind the trees. He glanced over his shoulder as they climbed, checking to see if anyone was watching. They were not.

“Here will do, I think,” Hannibal said, and Will was surprised at how close they still were. He looked back again and could see that Hannibal was right; they _could_ see everyone down below. He could also see that there was no way they themselves would be seen, unless someone came closer and was actively looking for them. They would need to remain quiet, however. There was every chance that if they were too loud, they would be heard. That only added to the excitement.

“It's probably asking too much that you were prepared enough for this to bring lube, isn't it?”

Hannibal only smirked and dug around in his pocket, retrieving a small bottle with a flourish. Will grinned, grabbing Hannibal's tie and pulling him close.

“Fuck, I love you,” he growled.

And then he heard what he'd said, and the ground very nearly fell away from under him.

“I-I mean, I didn't -” he stammered, panic filling every part of him.

“I know what you meant, Will,” Hannibal said, that strange warmth filling his voice again. And it was that warmth, more than anything, that had Will understanding. They gazed into each other's eyes, before Hannibal roughly spun Will, slamming him into the tree before him. Will cut off a groan, parting his legs even as his arms raised up to adjust his position against the hard wood of the tree. Hannibal wasted no time in undoing Will's belt, a sudden franticness surging through the both of them, and before Will so much as had time to catch his breath, his trousers where around his ankles and Hannibal's teeth were scraping across the skin of his ass. He shifted once more, parting his legs as wide as he could comfortably manage, Hannibal taking the invitation and lapping his tongue against Will's entrance.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Will groaned, biting his own forearm in a bid to keep his voice down. Hannibal's tongue did what it always did best, licking and probing, doing its best to tear sounds out of Will even as Will himself struggled to keep them locked away. From below the sounds of the FBI party drifted up; the clinking of glasses, the occasional outburst of laughter. Will craned his neck around the side of the tree, trying to keep his eyes focused as Hannibal did all he could to unravel Will, looking down at them and reminding himself of how easily they could be caught. His cock throbbed, and he pushed back against Hannibal, who took the hint. He stood, leaving Will exposed and wanton. Will could feel the heat of his gaze over his exposed skin, even if he couldn't see it. He craved his touch, letting out a quiet whine to let him know. There was the pop of a cap being opened from behind him, followed by the cool drizzle of lube running down between his cheeks.

“And how are you enjoying this? Enjoying watching all those people down there,who at any time could come up and find you spread out like this?”

“I'm enjoying it at least as much as you are,” Will answered, his breath catching as Hannibal's fingers began circling his hole, teasing and pushing but not quite giving him what he needed. “I know you want to claim me. So _claim me._ ”

The audible intake of breath behind him let Will know he'd hit his mark. Hannibal's fingers began working in earnest now, the both of them in too much of a hurry to drag this out. It didn't take long until Hannibal had three fingers buried in Will's ass, scissoring him open even as Will pushed back against him, craving more, ever more. Those fingers popped out without warning, leaving Will anticipating what was coming. The sound of Hannibal's fly being lowered felt like a nail being drawn down Will's back and he shivered in response. When Hannibal finally entered him it was rough, anything but gentle, and yet the way Hannibal gave Will what he needed was almost romantic in its care.

Will let out a grunt, far louder than he'd intended, and his eyes darted once again to the oblivious group before them. In return, Hannibal hooked his arms beneath Will's, pulling him up until they were pressed together, chest to back, Will's cock openly displayed to the sights before them. Will's eyes almost rolled back in his head, Hannibal's hands moving, one gripping Will's hip, the other taking his cock in hand. His wrist pumped quickly, effectively, in time with each snap of his hips. This wasn't lovemaking, not even close. It was dirty, rough, animalistic _fucking_ and oh god did Will love it. Hannibal grunted in his ear, biting at his neck, and it took an embarrassingly short time until Will was coming, a strangled cry torn from his throat as he convulsed in Hannibal's arms. Or it would have been embarrassing, had it not taken Hannibal only a few more thrusts before he was locked up himself, filling Will entirely.

They panted, collapsing against the tree, Hannibal slipping free from Will then turning him around to hold him close. He pressed small kisses along the places he had bitten. All Will could do was cling tight, trying not to fall as he regained his breath.

“Will?”

Beverly's voice floated up from down below, and Will _did_ panic then. He hurriedly pulled his trousers up, ignoring the unpleasant feeling of come dripping down his thighs as he tucked himself back in. Hannibal re-zipped his own trousers, patting his hair back into place.

“Next time we do this,” Will muttered as he tried to smooth his clothes back into a state that _didn't_ scream loudly that he'd just been fucked, and fucked well, “we're doing it somewhere I can at least get cleaned up properly.”

Hannibal reached for him, smoothing his messed up curls back into submission, smiling but saying nothing.

He didn't need to.

Will smiled back. He hadn't expected today to mark such a profound shift in their relationship. He wondered what would be next for them.

 


End file.
